The Time After
by I.walk.in.air
Summary: Tf Animated: Directly after the last episode, Ratchet spends most of his time with those close to him. Perceptor offers him a job. Everything's running smoothly... Or so he thought. Rated T for future gore. First Tranformers fic ever. Crappiest summary ever!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any version of Transformers nor any of it's characters...**

**AN: **Hey, hey, hey! First transformers fic ever. This takes place after the last episode of Transformers Animated. Someone told me there was a comic series that went with it, (If there is, haven't read it) but this is completely based off of the tv series. This is full of friendship, hurt/comfort, and may also contain some angst.

Sorry, if I don't get all the robotic terms correct.

**The Time After**

_~ chapter 1 ~_

* * *

The two bots continued their journey down the hallway leading to one of the more private medical stations. A combination of the light above and the color of the floor made the metal plated walls tint blue. The place was silent except for their peeds and small talk. Arcee, a young fem, tried to brighten the mood of the older mech beside her. She had a basic citizen build that most fems before the war acquired. Her plating was mainly a light pink and her optics a bright blue. Although shorter than her friend, it wasn't by too much.

Placing a servo on the medic's arm, she smiled and said, "It's not his fault... I'm sure Perceptor did everything possible-"

"Everything, huh?" The mech grumbled, optics narrowing. He was an aged bot with a red and white color scheme, his shoulder plating baring the sign of an earthly emergency vehicle. This bot had a wide set build that allowed him room for transporting others while in his alt mode. Ratchet was also a bit of a grump. He had been one from the start, but war made his warm side less noticeable. Truth was, he didn't think harshly towards the microscope... Just upset it had taken Shockwave hacking Arcee's processor and some how retrieving files that no longer existed.

Wanting to change the subject, the fem asked, "So... How was training Omega Supreme? He seems to be very fond of you."

Ratchet looked up and softly smiled, "It wasn't what I had expected, but he became more of a friend than a student. I'm just glad he's back online and fully functioning."

"Why don't we visit him this afternoon?" the pink bot suggested hopefully. She remembered her excitement when given the job in Operation Omega. Having been a teacher before joining the Autobots, Ultra Magnus himself thought her perfect for the task. That was when she was given the access codes (all other copies erased for security reasons) and was on her way... Then the Decepticons had attacked. After her ship crashed and being injured, she had met the field medic for the first time.

The old mech's smile made a second appearance, "Certainly. Omega never had much time to chat, but with the fighting said and done... I think he would really enjoy the company." They turned the corner and Ratchet continued, "Though I wouldn't be able to stay very long."

"Hmm? Why?" Arcee questioned.

"I told Optimus I would go with him to see Prowl one last time." the mech's mood took a dive. He'd seen enough death to drive mentally weaker bots insane. The fem simply nodded and let the matter drop.

Ahead of them was medical room 41C. They were right on time too! They were twenty feet away from the door when it opened revealing a familiar mech.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't my favorite medic! How you doin' Ratch?" the scientist/inventor greeted, his head finials blinking joyous greens and yellows.

"Same as always." Ratchet answered, "Hey, where's Perceptor?"

"He'll be here shortly. Decided to take a quick check up on Magnus." the mech assured. Glancing over at the fem, Wheeljack laughed, "And what a pleasure it is to see you up and moving! Arcee, correct?"

The pink bot grinned, "Yes. Nice to meet you while being coherent." She reached a servo out and shook with the overly gleeful mech.

Wheeljack was about to say something when he stopped to answer his comm. After a few 'yeah's and 'right away's. The scientist looked back to the other bots. "Sorry for the short meet, but I gotta get going. Percy should be in there by now." he said pointing, "See ya guys later!"

Both bots waved goodbye as Wheeljack lumbered out the way they'd came. Continuing on, the door slid open with a hiss. The room was much larger than the last one Arcee had been placed in and much brighter. The back wall was covered in shelves upon shelves of supplies. Things as complicated as replacement limbs and EMP's all the wat to bolts, washers, and rivets. Different machines lined up on the left, data pads stacked in boxes on the right. The standard medical equipment sat in the center next to a medical berth, a few tables, and a desk. It had everything! Ratchet realized that this must be Perceptor's main lab/medical center. Why bring them here when Arcee was just getting a scan?

For a brief moment, they were alone. They began to make their way forward when a low emotionless voice came from behind.

"Sorry for being late." a red and gray mech, with a yellow tinted set of pointed specs, apologized. He studied his patient from where she stood, looking her over. The way the fem moved to see him made what little feelings were left calm. "You appear to be physically stable, but I would like to run a few extra tests to be certain-"

"Why here?" Ratchet interrupted, "Don't you think this is overkill?"

In most cases, Percy would have finished his statement before addressing the question. Having known the medic for a time, he knew it was best just to answer.

"I want to make this easier for the patient." The microscope glanced over at Arcee and proceeded, "And myself as well."

The old ambulance understood. Perceptor stayed down here to keep tabs on Ultra Magnus, only leaving for counsel meetings. Although a proper scan could be held in any medical facility, it was preferred the leader of Cybertron was in the best of servos at all times. Those servos just happened to belong to this particular mech.

The somewhat emotionless bot lead Arcee to the medical berth. The mech worked diligently as he set up the scanner and hooked her up to a few cords. Information began to flood the screens atop Perceptor's desk. Data pad ready, he began to log what he saw to be of importance. "Display visual. Core processor unit." he commanded. In no time it appeared on the center screen, shocking Ratchet into stumbling back a few steps. Even the scientist's optics widened. It was clearly processing data, yet one of the components were missing completely! Where were Arcee's filters?

"How is she still functioning?!" Ratchet said enraged, "She's been online for far too long and hasn't said anything?"

A CPU's filters are physical fire walls for unidentifiable coding.

"Arcee's self-repair systems should have alerted her with a damage read out... It is possible Shockwave removed the filters to more easily upload data and/or a virus." Perceptor theorized.

The elderly bot eyed the pink fem who'd offlined her optics. Had he been in her position, Ratchet wouldn't have gone without at least a mumble or a curse.

Taking a closer look at the scan, Perceptor could see most of the current wires had replaced the fried ones caused by the over powered memory wipe. The circuitry and wires of a fully functioning CPU were complex and delicate, making any damage nearly impossible to fix. Shockwave was most certainly skilled.

"Where did he get the materials for such an advanced procedure?" He thought aloud.

"He may have taken it from a bot that offlined during the war... but I would not hesitate to believe that wasn't their only option." the medic mumbled in distaste.

Even though the Con did exceptional work, the filters were missing and had to be replaced as soon as possible. No one had ever bothered removing a CPU's filters until now and the possibilities too risky for them to prolong getting her new ones. Luckily, filters were easy to come by nowadays.

"Tell me where the parts are." Ratchet sighed through his vents.

"I'll get the parts. You prepare her for the operation. Though I may know how to preform the surgery, I lack the experience. I would prefer if you would do as you once did before."

It was true Perceptor was a genius in both science and cybertronian biology, yet he rarely tried his own servo at open processor surgery. Luckily for the medic, he was equipped with all the necessary tools to begin. That was another convenience in which the microscope fell short. Without complaint Ratchet had already begun removing the scanners from the berth and replacing cords. Arcee onlined her optics with a shy smile. Ratchet tried hard not to look the way his spark felt. Personally, he had labeled his last experience as a failure to both the fem and Operation Omega. Ultra Magnus had chosen Arcee and her alone to carry the activation codes and work as Omega Supreme's instructor. What could of happened? Maybe Omega would have never been forced into stasis.

The fem had always been good at reading others like a data pad. She pursed her lip plates and gave a playful scowl, "Don't you go beating on yourself. I have my memories and I am fully functioning! Thanks to you and that organic."

'_Sari..._' Hope washed over the elder mech as ideas began to form. Gears began to turn rapidly in his CPU and he couldn't hold back a cheery grin. This was perfect!

"What is it?" Arcee trilled.

"Just a little something that might lighten the load on Mr. Emotionless. I'll tell you once I'm done." Ratchet smirked setting up an IV drip. Oh how greatful he was for knowing the little redheaded brat. They may bash heads every now and then, but with her abilities... Ultra Magnus had a fighting chance for a full recovery. Bonus, no more 'acting Magnus' for (the aft head) Sentinel Prime. How he had even gained _a _title was beyond him.

Perceptor returned with a small bucket of filters, his optics narrowing at the over joyed ambulance. The red and white mech had already began sedating the patient. Within a few clicks, she slipped into recharge. Pressing a few buttons, he watched as the berth slowly shifted Arcee into a slightly reclined sitting position. Steady gentle servos removed her helm revealing sections of sensitive material. The material was soft like a protoform and even more fragile. It was the outer layer of her CPU. Good thing all Cybertronians' helms were of the strongest of metals no matter whether you had a citizen or even military build.

Ratchet picked out a good clean set of filters giving the scientist a nod of appreciation.

'_Odd..._' Perceptor thought. To make himself useful, he picked up Arcee's medical pad and logged in the event of the operation. Date, operation, surgeon, time, ect...

With a click, cords dropped from an overhanging cylinder. The cords began to automatically connect to different medical ports along the sides of the black and blue material. Her optics drifted open in response. A good processor surgeon could tell how the patient was fairing by simply checking for changes in his or her optics. The medic was truly greatful after having heard from Sumdac that Earth's brain surgeons kept their patients awake and aware. Here, he or she would remember nothing, it would feel as if they were in recharge.

A high pitched _BEEEEP _and blinking screens blared warnings. "As I had predicted. There is a virus... It appears to have bypassed her own firewalls, but not the computer's." Perceptor observed.

"Does that mean..."

"Shockwave may have compiled a new set of coding that can evade all except physical firewalls."

"Can it be removed and is it contagious?"

"Removed... Certainly. Contagious... Not probable."

"By what percentage?"

"Twelve-point-zero-four-nine-nine-one percent."

How professionals should always speak. Short and straight to the point. "Twelve, eh? Can you identify it's function?"

The gray and red mech diligently studied the coding that filled the monitors. A rare glimpse of bewilderment flashed across his faceplate. Screwed optics only relaxing after much deliberation. Ratchet stood patiently with arms folded over his chassis.

"Appears to be inconclusive."

**~Break~**

The two mechs whispered as to not disturb the fem who'd not yet awoken from the sedatives. A canceled surgery was the last thing either had wished. No one had ever gone this long without CPU filters and none wanted to be the first to experience any possible side effects. Perceptor requested the operation postponed until he could prove the virus innocuous or eradicate it completely. The medic refilled his cube with a violet substance. Though he preferred the bitter sweet taste of oil, energon was much more beneficial in every way. With Sentinel in charge, most places that offered oil were shut down because of those preposterous propaganda clips. Energon would have to do for now.

All Ratchet experienced in the past few solar cycles had taken it's toll. He looked weary from his having to put up with a bunch of young mechs in such a dire situation. Rumors of the spacebridge repair crew were spreading faster then one could say '_Primus_'.

"Is it true what they're saying" a pause as Perceptor took a sip from his own cube, "About that organic's key?"

"I'm glad you asked." the older mech held a steady grin, "That thing is nothing more than a piece of scrap metal... No, but that _organic_ is something to be reckoned with."

Leaning forward, joints giving off muffled creaks, the scientist studied his friend's expression. According to Wheeljack, there was talk of a key that had attained healing abilities from the Allspark itself. The story was of course... unlikely to begin with. It wasn't like Ratchet to speak highly of such an annoying species when he could hardly handle his own, yet he swatted away a rumor and went straight to complementing a human.

"Sari just happens to be a techno-organic. Unlike other humans, she is part Cybertronian part organinc. Needless to say she absorbed the key's energy within herself. Though not able to heal, she poses endless possibilities. Without her and the Allspark's guidance..." Optics wandered towards the fem, " Arcee would still be lost."

"What? Explain." Perceptor requested. He got more than had been expected. The medic gave a long detailed summary of the key and the organic... _techno-organic_. So there was a key for the majority of his time on that wet rock. The child tried to give herself an upgrade, ending in disaster. Afterwords, he told Perceptor of some of his personal experiences with Sari. When she was able to fix a spacebridge for instance. Turns out Cybertron's best spacebridge technician was arguing with one of the locals when she decided to try and prove her usefulness. Immediate results! Another time included Ratchet finding Arcee. Sari told the medic exactly what to do in a matter of seconds. Interesting.

"-do you want me to get her? She's with Optimus if I'm not mistaken."

"I will comm you after Wheeljack is finished with his assignment. I don't want to try anything until Magnus is officially relocated. His current room, as you know, is no longer suitable." The red and grey mech stated.

Ratchet scowled. He was half the reason Ultra Mangus's room had acquired a huge gaping hole in the wall. Trying to protect Arcee, he lead Shockwave straight to the Autobot's leader.

"Tell her I was late, okay? She'll know what I'm talking about." the medic downed the rest of his drink before standing up.

"Ratchet."

"Yes?"

"Willing to be assigned to a more... stationary position?"

"Maybe. What exactly do you have in mind?"

* * *

**AN: Soooooooooo... Questions, comments, criticism, ect. Trying to be a better writer here. **


	2. chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any version of Transformers nor any of it's characters...**

**AN: **Lets get down to business, shall we? Imma back and ready to roll! Right into the story we go!

**The Time After**

_~ chapter 2 ~_

It was a fitting goodbye for the ninja bot. His holographic image projected for all to see. Sari had placed a handful of rose petals at the base of it in remembrance of his fascination with Earth's nature.

A few other mechs and femms would come and go. Most of them had known Prowl from training under Master Yoketron. Jazz was there too, but had to leave when a not-so-happy Setinal commed. The spunky bot had chosen to disobey an order when told to retrieve Ultra Magnus' hammer. It was of little surprise the "acting Magnus" was still in touch with his nack for holding grudges.

The group didn't linger for too long, just until all had a chance to bid a proper farewell. Then, respectably and without another word, they turned to leave. The spacebridge repair crew had persevered against all odds. For them, the majority of the credit for the second defeat of the Decepticons belonged to none other then Prowl.

Bulkhead raised the techno-organic up to roost on his shoulder, off to his left strolled the yellow mini, Bumblebee. Behind them Optimus and Ratchet followed at their own slower pace. The Prime and the medic listened to the other three ramble on and on about what the wanted to do next. Of course, they simply wouldn't agree to anything. Despite the two bots friendship, their personalities were constantly clashing. The large green mech wanted Sari to go sight seeing while Bee wanted to take her to a local street race. Optimus chuckled to himself as they were too busy bickering to realize Sari's suggesting they do both.

It wasn't long until she raised her voice, "GUYS!"

She had obtained the attention of every bot's optics over a fifty yard radius. Friends silenced their vocalizers while passerbys didn't know what to think of the white and yellow plated migit. My, she had a loud voice!

Sari arose, ignoring the few odd looks and stressed every other word. "Why... Don't we..." she paused taking time to point to the three of them before proposing, "Go sight seeing... on our way to the race?"

"I'm okay with that. What about you clumsy? Or is a race still too action packed for you?!" Bee nudged the taller mech.

Bulkhead shuffled his peeds before answering, "Oh, alright. Just don't blame me if you crash, cause we all know you'll be entering if we go."

That earned genuine laughs from the whole group. Bumblebee spread out his arms, gesturing to all.

"Ain't nothing able to get close enough to scratch my paint!" he said in his own defense, "And that's that."

The green mech rolled his optics adding, "Whatever you say."

Would the mini ever learn? His constant experiences on Earth didn't seem to amount to much. Always trying to prove his worth in a stupid/selfish kind of way. Only a few times did that attitude of his turn out for the better.

Optimus glanced down at the medic on his left. He'd been mute for a majority of the time since they met up a jour ago. Venting a sigh, the Prime tried to think of something to say to get the mech talking. Hello? No, that wouldn't lead anywhere. So he settled for the best thing that crossed his processor.

"How was Arcee's meet with Perceptor? She okay?" he asked, his tone full of concern. Meeting the red and blue Prime's optics, Ratchet frowned.

"She's missing a set of Processor filters and I can't do much until Percy gives me the 'all clear'."

"You? I thought..." Optimus trailed off bewildered.

"Yeah, about that. SARI! Get over here!" he called after her.

Three sighs echoed before she turned around, her metallic ponytails bouncing. Annoyance played across her features as she lept off her perch and activated her jet pack. Carefully, she slowed her decent until her feet were in contact with the ground.

"Yes?" Sari questioned.

"Would you mind helping a friend of mine? He is in need of your assistance."

Unexpectedly, she shrugged, "Maybe... Right now? Or can it wait?"

Ratchet leaned forward to pat the teen on the shoulder. With only one of his digits, of course. "Not now, but I would like to talk to you after your done with the race _and_ you contact your father. He's probably worried sick."

She nodded, "I can deal with that. Who is this so called friend?"

The old mech inwardly mused over the idea, Sari meeting Perceptor. Though his scientific coding would urge him to examine the girl, he held too much restraint and respect for others. Wheeljack on the other servo would be a whole different experience. The inventor wouldn't hesitate to let his vast curiosity bombard the teen with question, after question, after question and a few pokes.

"Just ask Bulkhead to comm me when your ready. Now get along before Bee's patience is replaced with yammering. Don't need my auditory sensors ringing because I took a whole three seconds out of your time."

She let out a thrilling giggle before the hum of the jet pack carried her small form in the opposite direction of which she faced. Every other click, Ratchet would be adding rules to a list for Wheeljack. Oh how wonderful!

Optimus was stiff and clearly still waiting for an explanation. His words came out in a polite manner, but were slightly tainted by a waver.

"And you were saying?"

"Ah, yes. I've been offered a position... an assistant to fill in for Perceptor. His agenda for the time being is Ultra Magnus and him alone. That leaves Arcee, Omega supreme, filling data pads, ect. under me and Jack."

The medic's choice had was surprised himself. He was always traveling, always busy. No doubt he'd be occupied, but travel would be limited. Ratch simply loved traveling the many vast universes with his dear friend. Omega Supreme.

Omega was now online and any thought of placing him back into stasis would end with a wench up the afterburner. Cyberton's hero deserved better! He would no longer be a neglected ship the counsel could send willy-nilly. Full repairs, welcoming servos, and a vacation were in order. That would be a topic for later, it would seem. Prime spoke up again.

"You were... Promoted?"

The poor kid couldn't understand the other mech. He grew up as a military bot. You were fresh off the assembly line and rushed off to boot camp. The only way to achieve anything, you had to be promoted. Promotion and demotion. Ratchet decided to not further complicate things, by giving a general answer.

"I guess you could say that. Anyways, I accepted."

"And I'm guessing that 'friend in need of help' is Perceptor." Optimus perked up. He began to radiate that joy the military held little appreciation for. The universe was nearly starved of such a warm feeling.

"Yes. And besides... Lets face it, I'm old. A break from ending up at the wrong place at the wrong time sounds good to me." It was still processor boggling to think of how many things the elder mech could have avoided in the past if he had made the most logical choices at the time. A break from bad karma (Oh look. An Earthling term) wouldn't hurt any bot.

Ratchet realized that in less than a jour, the inner glow of Cybertron would fade and the stars become visible. His home planet didn't need the aid of a nearby star for light. From a seeker's eye view, one could see the brilliant rays radiating from the center of Cybertron itself. On ground level it was hardly noticeable. The light pulsing against the star etched sky morphed into a violet hue.

Where would be a good place to recharge for the night? He'd been living inside Omega Supreme for stellar-cycles, then in some old rinky dink warehouse for Earth's Autobot base. Never had the mech truly settled down. Oh Primus... This was going to be more challenging then he'd thought.

The Prime vented deeply trying to loosen his joints. Along with his comrade, he too had a great multitude of things on the processor. Mainly, _what next_? Return to repairing spacebridges? A faltering possibility, but without Ratchet... without a ship? Highly unlikely. Yes, Optimus had no doubt that the ship, now conscious, belonged to himself. And what of Bulkhead and Bumblebee? Probably not in the mood to leave their home any time soon based on what he's observed. Bulk had even mentioned showing their "key player" an energon farm.

Best just to hang low until Ultra Magnus was able to resume his duties. Confidence in the leader's recovery was no longer based on a slim chance or an if.

"Well," the medic huffed, "I'm off. See ya later Prime."

Pivoting to the left the old mech waved his good servo and started towards the only building tall enough for Omega to stand up to his full stature.

Optimus returned the gesture, "Later."

**AN: T'waz a very calm chapter. I was going to make it longer, but this seemed like a better place to stop than what was previously planned. :D Review if you wish! I take criticism without getting all butt hurt. Trying to become a better writer. Just a little advice: Writers are encouraged to write more when people REVIEW more!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own any version of Transformers nor any of it's characters...**

**AN: **Sadly, I am disappointed with the size of this chapter. Told myself to never write anymore short chapters, but TA-DAH! This will be the shortest chapter for this entire fic. Promise.

**The Time After**

_~ chapter 3 ~_

* * *

The building was filled with a disturbing silence. The outer walls were marred by years of enduring acidic rain. Staff was at bare minimum as they tinkered with miniscule projects. Small digits flitting over the glow of their data pads, zooming in and out to better inspect the blueprints. What once had been a room of loud shocks, clangs, and orders was nothing more than a few bots with engineering hobbies. The only real action taking place came from the squeal of a rejoicing femm standing in the open doorway of the front office.

She had been one of Cybertron's best _way_ back in the day. Time and the lacking care for good appearance had faded all her paint to a pale green. The sleek scientist couldn't believe this day had actually came. Her shrill gleeful cheers attracted multiple bots' attention. The last time she'd broke out in such a scene, a large stash of high grade was discovered under one of the floor panels. To their amazement, she darted up the nearest staircase and made a beeline towards... "the switch". What could possibly require such an extremity?

The more seasoned scientists and engineers knew the exact purpose of "the switch", while the younger bots could only guess. All together, they never expected to use it _ever_ again. If these particular bots hadn't been so absorbed in their projects (and if the building wasn't half way underground and soundproofed), they might have heard the news...

"Nexus-13! What is the meaning of this?" an old mech barked, transforming his mini blowtorch back into a gray servo with white digits.

… _The Autobots' greatest success_...

Nexus-13 answered his confusion through action. Flipping open a large panel reveled a red handled switch. She gave a good tug, the whine of metal on metal echoed throughout the facility halls and chambers. Still not activating. Using both servos and one peed pressed against the wall, she let out a, "Hrrph!" ***click***

… _The one and only_...

A shuddering rumble sounded. The entire western wall began to rise every so slowly, or so it appeared to the onlookers. Large peeds came into view, and the thunderous voice rang out in a warm welcome.

… _Omega Supreme_!

Abandoning their now seemingly pathetic toys, all made a start for different staircases. Pushing and shoving they squirmed their way up to Nexus. She was bouncing and giving high fives to all as they waited to see onlined average helm-sized optics. Each step was a round of applause, a quake, a shout!

"Did you guys miss me?" Omega let a smile struggle against his lip plate's natural frown. Strange? His speech wasn't similar to a drone, it was casual.

Bellow, Arcee studied the small crowd blurting answers and other niceties that were hard to comprehend from her current standpoint. It wasn't long until a few noticed the pink femm.

"Who's your friend?" said one of the younger mechs.

"Where? Where?!" another from the back squawked.

"You dolts! It's Arcee. She was the one who gave the activation codes to Ratchet." the only femm explained with a slight bounce in her voice.

"Really?" one squinted his optics to get a better look.

"Why don't you come up here? We never formally met." the oldest of them all beckoned with a single digit.

She began to wander when the Supreme offered her a lift. Gently, he raised her up to where the herd of bots clustered. Less than a nanoclick and she was flooded with greetings and the occasional hug. She had dealt with this situation many times as a teacher, though swarmed by students, not full fledged scientists.

Multiple decided this was the best time to express gratitude... Gratitude she didn't comprehend. To many voices chattering away and with little sign of diminishing.

"Your welcome?" Acree managed with a shrug.

* * *

**AN:** The OC's here are very miniscule and are in very few chapters. Someone asked who the main character was. It's Ratchet. Reviews are appreciated and will help tremendously. Posted this cause I am impatient with myself and writing will be limited as I prepare for some upcoming tests.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own any version of Transformers nor it's characters...**

**AN: **The plot is now slowly coming into effect! I am not good with sounding scientific when I write. Get used to it. I am not good with time so I guesstimated.

Jour - Cybertonian hour (a lot longer then an earth hour) :D

* * *

**The Time After**

_**chapter 4**_

A cold dreary place, the stockades. Trapped in a cell with little room for walking, or standing for that matter. Despite the room's inconvenient size, it was nothing compared to when he had pushed himself into the face friendly Intel-bot that came to be known as Longarm. Such a constricted build that seemed to crush his systems and officially force Shockwave to develop a slight claustrophobia towards it. That being the reason why he would risk transforming during private conversations with Lord Megatron. The poor conditions here did little to effect the bot who'd created his own mobile version of hell.

Pink energy bars were his only source of light, gleaming against the purple and black metal plating of the Decepticon. Gleaming against the scowling sigal.

A pair of stasis cuffs linked to both arms leaving Shockwave tired and nearly immobile in order to hinder his ability to elongate limbs. No, no. The Autobots couldn't allow that!

Had lip plates been visible, one could have seen that sinister smirk. Shockwave was no fool, the exact opposite really. To make things worse, Shockwave was a patient, enduring bot. A bot with many plans. Plans that would soon come into effect without the consent of his captors.

The bot rested his helm against the cold cell wall dozing off into recharge, shuttering his lone optic.

'_Yes. Plans._'

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Tense shoulder struts praised the moment Peceptor allowed his arms to dangle freely after setting down the data pad. Three of the monitors displayed virus coding, while the forth and fifth were of Ultra Magnus' systems. A steady spark pulse beeped reassuringly.

The complex coding did little more then avoid physical firewalls and focus Arcee's auto-repair systems on her memory banks. Without the guidance of codes, the damage would have gone over looked. Apparently, a virus possessed the ability to manually instruct repair nanites in a step-by-step process. To construct such a virus would demand exponential dedication and time from any bot in general, however, Shockwave was not 'any bot'.

Finally the Decepticons created a non-weapon based tool. From the looks of Arcee and her fully functioning processor, there is a new technological advance for medical purposes. However, the scientist decided it would be best to tweak a few things here and there so it could become a program instead of a virus, eliminating the need to remove physical firewalls. Why hadn't Shockwave done this himself? Virus's were easier to upload without so much a struggle from an unwilling victim.

The red mech reclined ever so slightly into his chair. To Perceptor's dismay, none of this provided exactly _how_ nonexistent files could just... return. Illogical.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

Last night had been spent with a group of old mechanics, Arcee, and Omega Supreme. Quite an enjoyable get together from Ratchet's perspective. All too generously the three guests were offered rooms to stay in since most of the building was now vacant. No surprise there.

Ratchet had only eight earth hours of recharge when an insistent ping alerted of a private comm. Propping up on the berth, he touched the side of his helm.

"Per-ceptor_?_" he spoke with a lagged groggy tone. What else could one expect from a bot still trying to get fully online.

"Sorry for the interruption, Ratchet."

"It's a little early, don't you think?" the medic slowly slumped back into his laying position.

There was a rustling sound before the other mech clarified his action, "I was reading up on organics, their online and recharge cycles are short. I believe... Sari... should be awake in what Earthlings call an hour, however, I could wait until her next online period."

Being the experienced medic he was, Ratchet could catch irregularities in a bot's voice. Percy was slightly rushing through his words.

"No, I'll get her. Besides, I would probably wake up around the same time." he allowed both peeds to hang over the edge and sat back up.

The medic had finally got into the habit of following earth's day and night cycles, and one can't immediately return to their original sleep patterns. Continuing, "Don't lie... is something wrong?"

"Negative." the microscope answered swiftly changing the subject, "Also, the virus has been analyzed. Classification, non-lethal with the purpose of processor repairs centered around the memory banks."

"So, Arcee is clear. I'll bring her over as well then-"

"Ratchet! You will not operate on any bot without a proper night's recharge."

Ratchet pinched the plating between his optics, a very human like gesture. "And what about yourself? I haven't had a proper recharge cycle in over two vorns. I can assure you that I will be a fully capable medic by the time I get there, not to mention the patient is not required to be online."

Perceptor was silent for a few clicks. "Fine. I expect you'll refuel before arrival. As for myself, only observation."

But of course, Ratchet would never dare to attempt any form of surgery (unless it was a do or die situation) on an empty tank.

"See you in a third of a jour."

The comm link broke leaving Ratchet to his own thoughts. Sari was most likely with Bulkhead and Bumblebee... wherever that was. Hopefully they hadn't tried to pull an "all nighter" again. Though, as of late, their little earth friend had matured greatly since she'd become what Sumdac refered to as a 'teenager'.

Now as to find her... Sadly Bumblebee, the energetic fragger that he was, would be easier to wake up. About to contact the yellow mini bot, the medic froze. She deserved that last hour of sleep. Maybe even a bit extra time.

Ratchet left his temporary room and walked silently to the nearest refuel station. He'd comm Bee afterwords.

**~X~X~X~X~X~**

His limbs felt heavy. Sleep was a top priority, yet he wouldn't give in. A leering theory hung over the colossal as a reminder to the pattern.

Recharge.

Enter stasis.

_Lose time_.

Wake up.

Stellar cycles lost, with the exception of himself. Incorrect. All of his kind were decommissioned and placed under a voluntary stasis waiting till their services were required. Hmmm...

What was one to do in a time of peace when he was built for war? Would he go mad? Is this the reason the others were put under? Or is his kind just too large for such a small world?

Once again his optics tried to shut and offline, nearly succeeding when the *clink clink* sound of peeds echoed down one of the low hallways.

"Ratchet?" Omega Supreme asked.

"Omega... Why are you not in recharge?" the medic frowned as he entered the spacious room, an empty cube in servo. It didn't take long for Ratchet to study his friends tired expression and poor posture"or better yet, have you recharged at all?"

The supreme straightened his back-struts trying to loosen his stiff wiring and joints. The medic knew him all too well.

"No."

"Okay then..." Ratchet stopped at the nearest energon dispenser, his gaze never leaving the other mech. "What's keeping you?"

"Avoiding stasis." The big mech came right out with it. No use in playing word games when it would only serve unintentionally annoy his friend.

* * *

**AN: **I would like to apologize in advance for the gonna be late updates of two of my stories that are stuck on a glitching computer. Hopefully it will be fixed soon. Sorry.


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